


Betrayal

by Tarlan



Category: Chronicles of Riddick (2004), Chronicles of Riddick Series
Genre: M/M, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-05-12
Updated: 2007-05-12
Packaged: 2017-10-12 23:22:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,512
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/130269
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tarlan/pseuds/Tarlan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Out of love, honor or pain, all things betray.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Betrayal

As the dying echoes of metal striking marble faded, complete silence descended upon the Basilica. The Lord Marshal stared up into Riddick's face, eyes filled with shock and betrayal as if he was not aware that he was already dead, a knife buried to the hilt in his skull. A single jerk of Riddick's knee and the Lord Marshal fell backward to sprawl like a puppet with its strings suddenly cut. Lifeless. Dead like so many before him.

No sound reverberated from the high chamber as Riddick moved to Kyra's side and dropped into the unforgiving seat of metal. Her eyes were glazed with pain but he knew, instinctively, that it came from mental anguish rather than physical. She was dying and he could do nothing to stop that from happening.

Are you with me?

He had asked her that question, once more feeling the burn of an emotion he had believed long dead until he found himself trapped on a planet in the pitch black with monsters. He had taken two people off that planet. He had trusted two people and had chosen exile to a world of ice just to keep them both safe. Five years spent in cold solitude until he was betrayed by Imam and hunted down like an animal by Toombs.

Was I wrong?

Five years believing he was alone in this universe, only to realize too late that both Kyra and Imam had always been with him, in his heart and in his thoughts, the warmth of their presence keeping the coldness from seeping back into his soul. Her eyes begged for forgiveness and understanding as she took her last breath. Riddick slumped back against the cool metal, knowing he had forgiven her, one hand rising to his face as if he could hide from his pain. Now they were both gone and their loss was the bitterness of a different kind of betrayal, leaving him truly alone in a hostile universe that had rarely shown him any compassion from the moment of his birth.

Movement caught his eye and through the gloom of the chamber, he watched them approach; the leader still brandishing the heavy battle ax that he had swung towards the Lord Marshal. Vaako, his mind supplied, recalling the Lord Marshal on his knees and the play of emotion as his believed savior became his intended executioner. Riddick narrowed his eyes as he tried to read the man's intent.

Three times their paths had crossed. Three times he had looked into this man's face and seen no malice, only determination to complete a necessary duty, tinged with intrigue and the resignation of knowing he would not see that curiosity sated. Obedience without question.

That same expression was on his face now but Zhylaw was dead, requiring no more obedience.

The others crowded behind him, some stepping further out from the press of bodies; commanders of the Necromonger army in their impressive body armor, perhaps divided in their loyalty now their Lord Marshal was gone - though they seemed to be following Vaako's lead, watching the striking figure rather than him. The bow of Vaako's head in deference was the sign they seemed to be waiting for and those closest began kneeling, anticipating Vaako's movement as he dropped to one knee. The movement rippled back through the crowd much to Riddick's surprise until the words of Zhylaw came back to him: Keep what you kill.

He had killed so many in his life and all he had kept of those men and, yes, women too, was the memory seared into his skull. Others he had simply stood by and watched them die at another's hand, a smile playing about his lips as justice was served in brutal strokes. Then there were others like Imam and Fry...like Kyra; the ones he had wanted to live, the ones who had died while he was powerless to save them. He had not killed them except by association and all they had left him was the emptiness in his soul from where they had been torn away in violence.

He stared beyond the sea of bowed heads to the soaring architecture of the basilica, seeing the pain etched into the faces of the statues surrounding him, seeing the loss of hope in this universe that made the Necromongers so eager to reach the next, to reach their Underverse. Perhaps this was where he belonged. Perhaps his whole life had been leading him to this place and to this moment. He let his eyes drop to those kneeling in obeisance, with every eye cast downwards in a respect that he had earned in battle; every eye except for one man's. Vaako kept his head bowed but he raised his eyes covertly, looking at him with that same intrigue, and just a little impatience.

Riddick looked at the body lying by his feet, closing his eyes to grant himself one last moment of love for her and then he let the coldness seep back into his heart. He pushed up from the throne and moved slowly but confidently down the few steps until he stood before Vaako. The man dropped his eyes on Riddick's approach.

"Vaako." He drawled out the name in a tone bordering on contempt even though he was impressed by what he had seen of this man.

The Necromonger startled, just the barest of twitches but Riddick was used to watching body language, used to gaging an enemy by the slightest of motions; a flex of a muscle, a glint in the eye. He saw the man's lips tighten a fraction, his neck stiffening as if uncertain whether to remain bowed before Riddick or to raise his head. Riddick solved the dilemma by grasping Vaako's chin and tilting his head up until their eyes could meet, though Vaako's gaze skittered away almost immediately.

"My Lord."

"So where does a man go to get cleaned up around here?"

Dark eyes darted back to him, widened in surprise, and Riddick knew he had been expecting something more than this seeming indifference to the immense power handed over to him. Perhaps the former Necromonger leaders had started their reign of terror with pretty speeches of past and future glory but he was no politician eager to exercise his newfound power and convert the masses to this or any other religion. He was tired, he was dirty and he was hungry for more than food. His eyes flicked up to the balcony where Dame Vaako stood rigid in both anger and shock, and Riddick felt the smile stretch across his face as her eyes narrowed.

Scheming bitch.

He could almost read her thoughts as the tension flowed out of her body, the anger smoothing from her face, replaced by unsubtle desire as she floated towards the staircase leading down onto the floor of the great chamber with a grace that even Aereon might envy. Before him, Vaako tensed, just as he had done that first time on Helion Prime. She moved to him with an overrated confidence in her ability to twist him around her finger, basing all her knowledge of him upon their previous encounter. He leaned forward and breathed her in, playing her game, but instead of her perfume, it was the heady scent of Vaako upon her flesh that excited him, just as it had before.

Beautiful.

She pressed a dagger into his hand, dark eyes rising, lashes fluttering with false coyness as she flirted dangerously with him. Her breath ghosted warm against his cheek, her words seductive and yet so cold, like a snake hissing in his ear. "You keep what you kill," she whispered, eyes flicking to the kneeling warrior who had not moved, his face still upturned but eyes averted. His lips were pressed tightly together, expression strangely stoic as if he had expected this betrayal from his wife. Prepared to die.

"So if I kill you, I get to keep him."

Riddick pointed the elaborately worked blade of the ceremonial dagger towards her cast-off husband and caught the slight widening of Vaako's eyes, and the slightest twitch of his lips as Dame Vaako pulled back, her confidence faltering at last. Her perfectly painted lips pressed together and Riddick grinned when Vaako answered both the open and the hidden question without any doubt or fear coloring his voice.

"Yes, my Lord."

"Good enough for me."

She seemed to stumble against him, her small, delicate hands clutching at his bloodied and bruised forearms. Riddick stared deep into her dark eyes, watching as realization filled them, as the light faded and her focus became fixed in death. Her head fell forward against his chest and he petted her beautifully coiffured hair, stroking a finger down a velvet-soft cheek before lowering her to the floor, as beautiful in death as she had been in life.

"So.... where does a man go to get cleaned up around here?"

Riddick extended an arm towards his new consort, their eyes meeting, and he smiled triumphantly as Vaako reached back.

THE END


End file.
